


You Make My Heart Shake (Bend And Break)

by hemakeshimstrongx



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angry Harry, Angry Louis, Drinking, Established Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Fighting, Football Player Louis, HARRY AND NICK ARE NOT ACTUALLY A THING THAT HAPPENS, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson Get Married, ITS AN IMPLICATION THAT IS INCORRECT, Larry Stylinson Is Real, M/M, Model Harry, Proposals, Sad Louis, Screaming, True Love, based off of a tweet i found, i deleted it now oh well, larry is real, larry stylinson - Freeform, one direction - Freeform, only love, they will get married anyways, they're in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 08:08:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5701174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hemakeshimstrongx/pseuds/hemakeshimstrongx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>HARRY STYLES PICKS DRUNK BOYFRIEND LOUIS TOMLINSON UP FROM CLUB AFTER MIDNIGHT FIGHT. </p>
<p>[in which louis has questions, but he doesn't know that harry will never need anything more than all louis already is] </p>
<p>title from troye sivan's WILD.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Make My Heart Shake (Bend And Break)

**Author's Note:**

> hello here is a fic since i haven't posted one in a while... i saw a tweet that was a manip of harry leading louis out of a club and it read something like "harry styles picks drunk boyriend up", hence where i got the inspiration to write this. so.. yeah... i'm just gonna leave this here..... it kinda sucks.

“Breaking news… Football player Louis Tomlinson and model boyfriend Harry Styles on the road to Splitsville?” Louis reads dramatically, scrolling down the page to read more. “A source close to the couple, who have been together for nearly five years, states that things are starting to get rocky. ‘Distance takes a toll, especially after so many years doing the same thing. Louis is home alone more times than not. Four weeks away from the pitch for injury are not doing him well,’ the source says. Will the world’s favourite couple be breaking it off soon?” 

“Would you shut the _fuck_ up?” Harry groans. “I’m tired and your senseless blabbering isn’t helping.” 

Louis frowns, closing the laptop and heading over to the bed where Harry’s been sprawled out since he got out of the shower. “When you talk to me like that it makes me wonder if maybe we are headed for Splitsville,” he says, and Harry can hear the pout in Louis’ voice. 

“It’s all bullshit tabloids,” Harry replies, rolling onto his side when Louis gets into the bed as well. “Who even is this source anyways? Don’t people find that a little weird? It’s all just an unnamed source.” 

Louis shrugs. “They just want to make money. Keep our names in the headlines. Especially ‘cause I’m hurt and not playing.” 

“How’s your leg?” Harry asks, still not opening his eyes. Louis makes a noise that signifies his indifference. They’ve been together long enough that Harry can pick up on this sound and what it means. “What’re you gonna do to keep yourself up while you’re off the field?” 

“Eat tons of shit food and get drunk.” 

Harry finally opens his eyes to glare at Louis. “It’s four weeks, Lou. You’ve got to do something.” 

“Well, I can’t do anything that could injure me further, but I can’t do nothing.” 

“Yoga is nice.” Harry says thoughtfully. “You could do it with me. Nice bonding! World’s favourite couple Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson take on yoga classes together, apparently they’re not breaking it off after all!” 

Louis rolls his eyes. “I wouldn’t be caught dead doing yoga, Harold. You know it.” 

“Yoga would kill you anyways. You couldn’t do it,” Harry admits, poking Louis’ thigh with his foot. “Too straining, too long.” 

“Have you forgotten what I do for a living, H?” Louis asks, unable to hide a smile. “You know how fast I can run up and down that pitch? How long I can do it for?” 

“That’s how you got hurt, innit? Besides, yoga is tough too.” 

“Alrighty, mister model. Yoga-doing piece of ass.” 

“All you see me as is a piece of ass? I’m slightly offended.” 

Louis reaches and shoves him gently. “Whatever. I’m not doing yoga.” 

“See? Told you that you couldn’t handle it.” Harry grins. Louis hates the glint in his eye. Or, wishes he did, anyway. 

“I’d like to see you survive ninety minutes on the pitch,” Louis snorts. “Which everyone knows you can’t do.” 

“Whatever. Let’s go to sleep?” 

“Suppose so.” 

  
  


/ / 

 

“Harry Edward Styles!” Louis exclaims, announcing his presence. A few people turn when he comes in. 

 

Harry turns around in his seat on the couch. “Louis?” 

 

“That would be me.” 

 

Harry gets up and greets Louis with a hug and a kiss, but is still utterly confused. “What are you doing here? I’m working.” 

 

“Doesn't look like it,” Louis looks between Harry 

and the couch he was previously sitting on. 

 

“It's called a break. What are you doing here?” he repeats. 

 

“I just got out of physical therapy and figured I’d pay you a visit.” 

 

“Without calling?” 

 

“I can go, if you want me to,” Louis frowns. “I just thought I’d come say hi to you.” 

 

Harry rubs his temples, exhaling heavily. “Alright. Hi.” 

 

Louis frowns even deeper. “What’re you shooting today?” 

 

“Just some more YSL stuff,” Harry says calmly. “Nothing very special. How was PT?” 

 

“I’m supposed to go home and ice,” Louis hisses. “But I don't like the ice.” 

 

“You have to otherwise you're gonna be out for even longer than four weeks.” 

 

Louis puts both hands on Harry’s shoulders, squeezing gently. “You seem, like, stressed. Are you alright?” 

 

“Just tired. Been here since like seven this morning.” 

 

“Okay, love. When you come home we can take a bath?”

 

Harry nods. “Sounds nice.” 

 

“I’ll get out of your hair. I’m probably the one stressing you out.” Louis leans forward and kisses Harry’s nose. “Love you.” 

 

“Love you too.” 

 

Louis lingers to see Harry take a couple shots. He's a natural in front of the camera. He knows exactly what he's doing, and looks beautiful doing it. 

 

At home he turns on the footie game and props his leg up with ice, but not before grabbing his laptop. Louis got hurt during a game a few weeks ago, but continued playing for the next several weeks. Then he got hurt again last weekend, and that was it. He was down on the pitch for long enough that the game stopped, medics came out. Harry was on the sidelines flipping shit. Turns out, he’d pulled something, or sprained it maybe? To be quite fucking honest, Louis doesn't care. If you asked Harry, he’d be able to pinpoint exactly what's wrong with Louis and countless ways it could have been prevented or fixed. Louis is just mad because it got him taken off the pitch for the next four weeks. He's going to kill himself. 

 

Louis opens to his homepage, greeted by a flashy headline. _**HARRY STYLES, A CHEATER?**_ Louis quirks an eyebrow. Cheater, now. Great. He reads the little summary of the article:  _Harry Styles spotted getting close with fellow male model Nick Grimshaw last month while in Paris for business_. 

 

“Fucking Grimshaw,” Louis rolls his eyes. Pictures. Of Harry and Nick. Hm. “Might as well!” he says cheerily, clicking the link to expand the full article. 

 

Louis frowns at the first photo. It's Harry and Nick outside the building they must have been doing the shoot. They're too close. But they only get closer throughout the pictures. Scratch that, Louis isn't killing himself, he's killing Nick Grimshaw. One of the pictures Harry’s sitting in Nick’s lap at the club, Nick whispering in Harry’s ear. The thing is, they look like they're having a blast. Harry is smiling bigger than Louis has seen him smile in weeks. 

 

“God fucking dammit,” Louis curses, slamming the laptop shut and putting it down on the table a bit too aggressively. He gets up, ignoring the ice, and grabs his phone.  “Zayn.” 

 

“Louis! It's been a long time. To what do I owe the pleasure of this phone call?”  

 

“Do you wanna get high?” 

 

/ / 

 

“So, why are we doing this?” Zayn asks, leaning back. 

 

“Because Harry won't be home for another two hours or so.” Louis replies. 

 

“I mean… Why are we getting high?” Zayn repeats, and Louis rolls his eyes. The dumb ass literally just asked this question. “There's always a catalyst. You usually don't get high anymore.” 

 

“I read this article,” Louis says, inhaling deeply. “And he was with Grimshaw,” he says on the exhale. Zayn snorts. “They were close.” 

 

“They always have been. Two of the best looking guys in the industry. And they've been friends for a while.” 

 

“Harry’s the better looking one, first of all. Second of all, it was different. He was… happy.” 

 

“Is he not happy?” 

 

“I don't know.” 

 

Zayn hums, nodding. “Talk to him. Don't believe stupid magazine, Lou. You know this. You've been in the spotlight, been dating him, for long enough that you know this.” 

 

Louis sighs. “I guess you're right.” 

 

“I know I'm right.” 

 

/ / 

 

Harry comes home and Louis pretends everything is fine. They take a bath, eat leftovers. It's not until they're watching some stupid TV movie and the woman is talking about how she's not happy that Louis says something. 

 

“You're happy, right?” 

 

Harry blinks. “Um, yes?”

 

“Okay,” he nods, at the same time Harry says, “why?” 

 

“I was just wondering. Can't have my boy unhappy.” Louis smiles. Harry nods warily. “I was just asking, Hazza.” 

 

“Okay, I believe you. So, um, what’d you do today after your impromptu visit to the set?” 

 

Impromptu. Louis snorts. Harry's tone is very passive aggressive, and Louis hates him for it. “Hung out with Z a bit today.”

 

“Tomorrow I've got a dinner with Grimmy,” Harry says, putting his phone down. “I won't be home until late.” 

 

“Grimmy, huh?” 

 

“Yes. My coworker.” 

 

“Alright. Yeah. Fine.” 

 

/ / 

 

“Oh, please,” Harry groans, throwing the bedroom door open. “Tell me you're fucking jealous?” 

 

Louis sits up. “Excuse me?” 

 

“Zayn says you're jealous. Of Grimmy and I. You can't even come talk to me about it? You get high with Zayn and complain about your shitty boyfriend.”

 

“I never once called you shitty. You're a great boyfriend,” Louis says, glancing at the clock. After midnight. Great. “All I said was that you were close with him, and it worries me a bit-" 

 

“You're jealous. What, do you think you're not good enough or something?” Harry accuses, and Louis is silent. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Louis!” 

 

“Can you fucking blame me? You're you, gorgeous and confident and model and you're running around with all these other gorgeous confident models and I don't know half the shit that goes on when you're away! Like when you were in Paris!” 

 

“What the fuck went on in Paris?” Harry asks angrily, tossing his jacket down on the end of the bed as Louis rises from it. “Please tell me, because I have no fucking idea!”

 

“Nick, again.” 

 

“God, Louis! Nick. You've always had a fucking problem with him. Maybe I just shouldn't talk to anyone?” 

 

“No, Harry.” 

 

“You're accusing me of cheating, Louis! Do you realise how big of an accusation that is? You—is that why you asked if I was happy?” 

 

“Yeah! Because if you're not happy then you’d cheat, right? Go get what I’m not giving you to someone else. Do you even still love me? Because lately it seems to be the complete opposite!” 

 

“I’ll always love you.” Harry says softly. 

 

“But have you fallen in love with someone else?” 

 

“No.” Harry says, but Louis can sense the hesitation. He can read Harry very well. And Harry’s saying _I haven't, but I could_. 

 

“Are you happy?” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“People fall out of love. And then they fall in love with other people. That's what happens.” 

 

“I haven't fallen in or out of love with anyone, Louis! It's you! It's always you! It's been you since the day I fucking met you. I haven't kissed, let alone slept with another person since I met you,and you think I have? You honestly think I could do that?! You're coming out of nowhere with all these insane accusations.” 

 

“What fucking ever. I don't fucking need you, okay?” Louis spits. He's walking out of the bedroom and down the hall before he even has a second thought. 

 

Harry calls after him, but Louis’ already downstairs and heading for the door. Louis arrives at the local club, which is still pulsing and alive despite the hour. That's what Louis loves about clubs. 

 

He's drunk remarkably fast. Getting drunk and crying about Harry are Louis’ best attributes. He's good at that. 

 

_ Harhd.  _

_ o dintn mean it  _

_ im such an asshole fucj  _

_ im happt W u I promsoe _

_ Harry pleas  _

 

He texts Harry, over and over again as if it will help. Then he calls. “Lou?” Harry questions sleepily. 

 

“Harry, Harry. Did you see my texts? I texted you, babydoll.” 

 

“I know, there was a lot of typos.” 

 

“So you know I'm sorry?” 

 

Harry doesn't say anything. 

 

“I said I didn't need you, I know. But I was stupid. Fuck, so stupid. Now it's arse I'm the morning and I'm so fucking drunk and I need you. Okay? I need you. It's cold and I'm sad and I want to hold you. I said I don't need you. But I do stupid things all the time, don't I? I always say stupid shit.”

 

“Be outside. I’ll pick you up in ten.” 

 

“I love you. I love you.” 

 

Louis stumbles outside, digging a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He doesn't smoke often. Smoking damages your lungs, and Louis needs his lungs so he can breathe and run and stay on United. Smoking is something that comes in hand with the drinking. Even Niall has justified this. Niall is the healthiest guy Louis has ever met. Aside from Harry, maybe. 

 

He lights up as a few people with cameras come over to him. They ask him a few questions, some are about the injury and Louis answers as best he can. “You'll have to forgive me here, lads, I've clearly gotten a bit intoxicated.” 

 

“What happened?” 

 

“Got in a fight. With H. Over the stupidest shit,” Louis lets out a laugh, flicking the cigarette. 

 

“Louis!” Harry’s calling suddenly. He grabs Louis by the arm and starts tugging him away. 

 

“You actually came! Harry, baby, I’m so sorry.” 

 

“Yeah, yeah. Get in the car.” 

 

Louis turns his body towards Harry in the driver's seat immediately. Harry glares at him, and Louis keeps his mouth shut. 

 

Inside the house, Louis starts rambling. “I just want you to be happy, you know?” he says, laying down in bed. Harry keeps on puttering around the room. Anything to prolong getting into that bed. “And if you're not happy with me, then that's alright I guess. All I want is for you to be with someone who loves you. Someone who's good enough. Someone who's enough.”

 

Harry slams a drawer shut and turns to look at Louis. “Go to sleep.” 

 

/ / 

 

Louis turns up in the kitchen the next morning, sheepish. “I’m sorry.” 

 

“You are enough,” Harry blurts. “Ever since I met you. You've been it for me. You know it, I know it, fans know it, our families know it. You've always been enough. I’m sorry if I've ever made you feel like you're not enough for me. You are, you always have been. And you're not getting rid of me, either. No matter how many stupid stunts you pull, like last night, because I know that was your intention. We've been together long enough that I know. You left the house with every intention of me failing to see the good in you, and think you're not good enough. But that backfired when you got shitfaced. No matter how many times that happens, I’m still going to be here. No matter how many injuries or fights or anything, no matter how many cheating accusations you pull out of your fucking ass, I'm always going to be here. Nothing you do is going to make me think you're not enough. You always have been, always will be enough. I'll be here, forever.” 

 

Louis stands there, stunned for a moment. “You're enough,” Harry repeats. Just for for measure. And because Louis’ skull is thick. 

 

“Then marry me.” 

 

Now it's Harry who is speechless. “Louis, I–”

 

“It's big, I know. But I think this proves that we should, you know? I’m not going anywhere, you're not going anywhere… We’ve been together for five years… Everyone thinks we’re breaking up or cheating, let's show them we're not.” 

 

“You really want to get married?” Harry asks warily. “This isn't some stupid ploy to get me to forgive you? You won't want a divorce in a year?” 

 

“I love you. I love you, and you love me. And we’re only putting off the inevitable, aren't we?” 

 

Harry opens his mouth, but closes again. He's stunned. He can't speak. He doesn't know what to say. 

 

“I love you, Harry. And I think we should do this. I never want to be with anyone other than you.” 

 

“Then ask me,” Harry says finally. “Properly.” 

 

“Harry, will you do me the absolute honour of letting me marry you? I wanted you when I met you, wanted you last year, I wanted you yesterday. I want you today, right now, and I’ll want you tomorrow and every single tomorrow after that. I want you forever. So marry me, let me have forever.” 

 

Harry nods. “Yes, I will marry you. You absolute fucking asshole. Kiss me now.” 

 

Louis does. And then they make breakfast. When they check the headlines, it's right there. **_HARRY STYLES PICKS DRUNK BOYFRIEND LOUIS TOMLINSON UP FROM CLUB AFTER MIDNIGHT FIGHT_**. Bold and italicized like it makes the headline more realistic, or maybe a little scarier. The article continues, _sources caught Tomlinson, who is banned from the football pitch as a result of an injury, outside of a club in the early hours of the morning. He spoke of a ‘stupid’ fight with longtime boyfriend, successful model, Harry Styles. Styles arrived soon after to retrieve his intoxicated boyfriend._

 

Harry rolls his eyes at the article, taking the laptop from Louis and typing something else into the search bar. _Men’s wedding bands_. Louis chuckles at what Harry types in, the simplicity of it. But they scroll through pages upon pages until Louis says, “I think we’ll have to go look in a shop or summat, don't you think?” 

 

Harry nods. “I agree.” 

 

/ / 

 

Two days later when they check the headlines it says, _**HARRY STYLES AND LOUIS TOMLINSON SMASH SWIRLING BREAKUP RUMORS BY GOING… RING SHOPPING!**_

 


End file.
